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What is a fem dom:
I imagine a beautiful woman dressed in an expensive tiny black dress I bought for her. It accents her flawless figure perfectly. She is vision of beauty unworthy of a human ashtray like me me to look upon.
She is sitting on a barstool smoking a cigarette: she sits where people sit not lower lifeforms like me. I am so low I open and close my mouth to get her attention and beg for her to drop her ashes into my mouth or even her cigarette and be her human ashtray , anything to get her to notice me.
We have been in the dark dank bar for sometime and my knees are beginning to ache for acting as he rhuman ashtray but I don’t dare complain. She has been talking to all the other men in the bar, which all happen to be men I assume that the lack of women is due to it being so very close to a huge oil refinery not to mention it does not look a like any place any woman would like to be found in. The men are big, rough and sweaty. Some are even dirty. They all look at me as if they loath me and who can blame them? All I desire in life is the attention of my mistress and to serve as her human ashtray. At least they are real men and certainly not pathetic virgins like me.
Apparently word spread of what ever my mistress has in mind and it is certainly much more than being a human ashtray because I can feel a strained tension in the bar. She feeds me another ash and claps her hands together and men begin to gather around us. I can see the bulges in their pants. I can smell their sweat and see their desire. I begin t worry about my mistress because there are too many of them and there is nothing a pathetic human ashtray loser like me can do any way. I am no savior, just a twenty three year old virgin with ashes in my mouth.
Then reality hits me. They are not looking at her, they are looking at me. Fear crawls down my spine as I see the first man unzip and then realize with horror just how much of a loser I am when my cock begins to swell even harder in my pants.
